


to be your mary magdalene

by catsinmars



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bassist Ushijima, Canon Compliant, First Year College Sakusa Kiyoomi, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Musicians, Pro Volleyball Player Ushijima Wakatoshi, YAHOOOO, please let me be delusional about ushijima just this once., ushi substitutes for semi's band and guess who is in the crowd..
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:27:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28071696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catsinmars/pseuds/catsinmars
Summary: “Are you gonna buy a keyboard? Do you know how to play one?”Wakatoshi blinks, slow. “No, I do not,” he answers as slow. “I was just looking.”“Oh,” Kiyoomi says, throat scratchy. “New bass guitar then?”And then, god forbid, Wakatoshi smiles, attractive and blooming-like-a-flower and bright. “So, it really was you I saw that night.”Wakatoshi confirms Kiyoomi’s presence. Kiyoomi confirms his wet dreams.or: ushi band au
Relationships: Sakusa Kiyoomi/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	to be your mary magdalene

It was tradition, basically.

Be forced into some cafe that turns into some classy club when you finish your first year in the university and basically have annoying fun with your annoying classmates for one long and excruciating night.

In Sakusa Kiyoomi’s words, that is.

In hindsight, he wouldn’t actually mind going—the cafe was pretty and pretty close to his apartment, and he’d eaten there a handful of times that he knows it’s worth the money—except for the fact that he’d been going home late due to exams and practices that the only thing exciting him is, in fact, not a relaxing night with his friends but a night with his bed and maybe a movie.

That had been his initial plan, but somehow, he’d been called and texted and insisted on attending said tradition so here he is, an hour late and a bit thirsty as he steps inside the already crowding cafe. It has always been big and spacious, popular for its calm ambiance and music, yet tonight, flashing lights cover the place with excited people that it makes Kiyoomi pause a little. It looked vastly different from the once-calm cafe he frequently visits.

And besides, he did _not_ expect this many people.

Before he can even think of leaving, someone grabs his wrist and his eyes widen before meeting the eyes of his closest friend and teammate. “Sakusa-kun!” Yuichi grins at him and shoves a cup of iced coffee his way. “Don’t leave! I already bought you coffee, the band’s about to come out!”

Kiyoomi blinks and takes the cup. Those were a lot of words. “Thank you.”

“Don’t leave, okay?” Yuichi juts out his bottom lip at him and turns around when someone calls his name. “I want you to watch the band! I think you’ll like them!”

And with the grace of a host at his own party, Yuichi grins at him and walks away with speed and a laugh. Kiyoomi wonders if he owns this cafe and this is all some elaborate house party that he did not know about. He looks around and wonders if there are tables and chairs near the stage; if he were going to attend this concert, he might as well get a front-row seat. The coffee is cold against his palms and he quickly walks to the front briskly, dodging elbows and laughter as he does.

He finds himself leaning against the wall, clenching his coffee tightly as he looks up the platform. He’s as close as he can get to the stage and out of reach from people still; he can see how some are almost pressing against the platform due to their closeness and press against each other even more when it suddenly floods with fog and smoke, and the crowd of people gasp and cheer, seemingly getting bigger and bigger. He frowns and adjusts his mask higher, wonders if the band is even that good to have this much of an audience in such a space.

And then, impossibly enough, the crowd cheers loudly and he fixes his gaze on the stage as a woman walks out first, her lips a bright red and hair as black as ink flows over her shoulders. A plain yet pastel yellow electric guitar hangs off her outfit, a simple floral red dress. Soon, three men follow her and Kiyoomi feels his breath hitch in his throat.

That can’t be—

Ushijima Wakatoshi walks out quietly, dressed in an oversized black shirt accompanied with black pants with a bass guitar hanging off his body, hands gracefully positioned on its strings as he walks towards the far right stage. Farthest away from Kiyoomi. His bass was a cool, dark red with an accompanying black strap that hugs across his chest and Kiyoomi follows it until they stop on his fingers. They move and a deep, reverberating bass echoes throughout the cafe, and the crowd cheers, and Kiyoomi stills.

Kiyoomi watches as Wakatoshi smiles sheepishly at his other bandmate and he knows him—Shiratorizawa’s setter. Semi Eita. He knows that glare and scowl. His guitar sits along his hips, held by a black strap adorned with tiny and colorful drawings of hands, and it shines glitters underneath the lights with its glittery and bright blue accents amidst its white body. He laughs and mouths something to their drummer before shaking his head at Wakatoshi.

Wakatoshi-kun is in a band?

While being a rookie in Schweiden Adlers?

Kiyoomi feels his face heat up underneath his mask and he quickly fixes it up higher into his face, suddenly regretting how he’s so close to the stage.

He watches them laugh and test out their instruments before the woman steps close to the microphone and the crowd cheers again. The place floods with random notes of the bass, guitar, and drums and Kiyoomi holds his coffee close to him. “Thank you,” she speaks, voice airy and soft with teeth flashing underneath the lights, and Kiyoomi feels entranced. Wakatoshi moves from behind her and his eyes move to him again. It only dawns on him that Wakatoshi plays bass. “To Garden Sky for inviting us again! Have we reached our quota yet?”

She grins and brushes away her bangs and Kiyoomi lets out a gasp. She’s so pretty. “I think I failed my finals, this time, Semi keeps telling me to practice!”

The crowd laughs, entranced by her smile and cool voice and Semi glares at her, saying something that makes her laugh, echoing against the cafe’s speakers. “All right, all right, no bashing of other members.”

Kiyoomi fixes his gaze on Wakatoshi and his blank face, fingers aimlessly going over his strings and his mouth softly mouthing lyrics and Kiyoomi feels—weak. He’s suddenly thankful he’s leaning against the wall, yet he can’t bring himself to take a sip of his coffee. He feels that if he takes off his mask for a split second, Wakatoshi might suddenly see him.

As she hums lowly to the microphone, fingers moving swiftly against her guitar, the place soon fills with instrumentals, soft guitar, and deep bass that struck something inside Kiyoomi. He watches with concentrated eyes as Wakatoshi stays in his spot, eyes trained on his bass and Kiyoomi follows the movements of his arms and fingers, swift and long. He blinks and looks at the singer again. She’s grinning.

“Oh! I forgot to introduce our band!” she laughs alongside the crowd and she quickly fixes the strap on her shoulder. “We’re Moon Complex!”

Kiyoomi watches as Wakatoshi stays quiet before fixing the crowd with a smile, fingers still on the strings and he wonders how long he’s been playing, how long he’s been in this band, how long have they been performing, since when has he known to play bass, what other instruments does he play.

The crowd hypes them again just as the drummer hits the cymbals three times and the crowd cheers loudly, jumping alongside the beat of the guitar and the bass—Kiyoomi stands frozen as he watches Wakatoshi. Even though he kept quiet and still at the corner, once the song started, he’d become one with his bass, moving alongside the song and the singer—her soft and airy voice had transitioned into a deep and low voice that makes Kiyoomi’s breath hitch. If he wasn’t already so entranced by Wakatoshi, he’d be entranced by the transition of her voice.

Wakatoshi moved so familiarly yet so different; his body strong and firm as he moves alongside his bass, a smile curling up his lips as he mouths off the lyrics, looking at the crowd as he sings of a long-haired ghost crawling out of a TV. Even with the hyped-up crowd and flashing lights, Kiyoomi perfectly reads _i’ll devote myself to you until in the end_ on Wakatoshi’s lips and almost lets his coffee slip off his sweaty palms.

Kiyoomi can feel the heat of his face underneath his mask and he quickly unzips his jacket. Oh, god. They’re just playing some _love song_ and he’s this heated from watching Wakatoshi. The song finishes off quickly and the crowd cheers as the singer grins, breathing heavily.

“Who’s your bassist!”

“Introduce yourself, bass!”

“What’s the bass’ name!”

Everyone turns to Wakatoshi and Kiyoomi feels his heart jump at the way he faces the crowd, eyes squinting a little against the bright lights before he walks over to the microphone, deep voice reverberating all over the cafe. “I’m just substituting,” he says and Kiyoomi shivers, watching as Wakatoshi levels the crowd with a gaze, the smallest quirk of his lips. “No need to introduce myself.”

Kiyoomi feels special, knowing he knows Wakatoshi. Wakatoshi-kun.

The crowd boos him and the singer laughs, playfully pushing him away. “Let’s focus on me!” she laughs amongst the booing. “I’m Watanabe! Yes, yes, applause!”

Semi walks over to Wakatoshi with a laugh and Kiyoomi feels something burst and twists inside of him as they both lean to each other with a laugh, arms brushing against each other. Watanabe continues to talk to the crowd, even flirting with some girls on the front, and Kiyoomi smiles.

“Yes, yes, so you can see why we won’t be playing any originals tonight,” Watanabe pouts, ruffling her hair. “You all won’t be hearing Semi-chan’s love songs for a while!”

Semi flashes his middle finger behind her back and Wakatoshi laughs. Kiyoomi is immobilized. He wants Wakatoshi to see him, yet at the same time, he doesn’t.

“Now, hmm,” Watanabe hums, low and deep. “What song should we do next?”

Semi says something inaudible and she rolls her eyes. “Semi-chan is being mean to me!”

Kiyoomi smiles at their banter and wonders if this is what Wakatoshi would’ve wanted, in another life. Just as Wakatoshi looks his way, someone stands in front of Kiyoomi and he stares at the stranger’s back, flustered and shocked.

The next song starts in an instant and Kiyoomi almost jumps at its loudness and intensity, the crowd jumping and dancing along with it. Through shoulders, Kiyoomi looks at Wakatoshi and stills in the way he moves, hypnotizing and familiar. It was almost like they were in court, the way Wakatoshi commands the ball the way he does with his bass. Alongside Watanabe’s deep and enchanting voice, Wakatoshi looks ethereal.

Kiyoomi watches, entranced, as Wakatoshi often closes his eyes and mouths the lyrics, fingers beautifully playing his bass. Someone moves out of the way in front of him and he lets out a soft gasp, hastily holding onto his coffee. His palms are too cold and wet from the coffee.

Watanabe’s voice sings of disgust and of tears yet she still sings it beautifully— _jealousy_ flowing out of her mouth like silk. Kiyoomi looks at Wakatoshi and reads _where are you, bad boy_ on his lips and quickly pulls down his mask, taking a long sip of his coffee. He moves around a bit, making sure someone is standing in front of him. For now, he’ll ignore his hatred of crowds and focus on Wakatoshi—as much as he can.

Surprisingly, Kiyoomi bites down on his straw as he continues to look at Wakatoshi, the way he gets attention due to his handsome face and the way he captivates the crowd, even though he mostly looks down at his bass. Kiyoomi looks at him and sees how Wakatoshi is easily loved by all, the attention of everyone with just a flick of his hand.

The music dwindles down gently, focusing on Watanabe’s enchanting voice, and as Wakatoshi mouths the lyrics, he looks up and his eyes meet Kiyoomi’s. Kiyoomi gasps, teeth letting go of the straw, and just as quickly, Wakatoshi looks down at his bass again, brows furrowed.

Kiyoomi stills, face warming up even more and he looks away from Wakatoshi and to Semi instead, at the way he grins at the crowd, dancing around and singing along. He watches as Watanabe leans her head back, playing the guitar effortlessly before looking at the crowd again, lips almost touching the microphone.

Kiyoomi wants Wakatoshi to look at him again, yet he feels too nervous.

The song finishes with the silence of the other instruments as Watanabe closes her eyes, her voice echoing against the cafe and the cheers. Kiyoomi feels too hot and sweaty.

As soon as it finishes, Watanabe bends down to drink from bottled water and Semi walks over to Wakatoshi. He watches as Wakatoshi bends down lightly to let Semi whisper in his ear, fingers tapping against the body of his bass and he turns to Semi again, whispering something back. Kiyoomi wants Wakatoshi to look at him.

Semi stands next to Watanabe and they both smile before the riff of an electric guitar and drums bounces off the walls and everyone is jumping again and Kiyoomi wants to push everyone out of the way and to just jump at Wakatoshi.

Wakatoshi stands there for a moment, nodding alongside the beat, eyes looking at the crowd before his eyes meet Kiyoomi’s again and his lips smirk a little as his fingers move against his strings and he looks down again. Watanabe starts singing an English song, voice low and smooth against the mic.

Kiyoomi leans against the wall and it’s almost like the world sways before him. This Wakatoshi is so different from the Wakatoshi he plays against with on matches; this one oozes self-confidence and… sex? Kiyoomi’s face heats even more at the thought and he quickly sips his coffee.

Impossibly enough, Wakatoshi seems to get more confident as the song continues, a boastful grin playing on his lips. Kiyoomi wonders if it’s because of him—did Wakatoshi-kun really see him? was he playing for… him? Kiyoomi wants to move closer to the stage just to see, but the embarrassment that would soon wash over him after doing it would be too much to handle for one night. And so, he stays by the wall, a perfect position to see Wakatoshi-kun.

Everyone holds their breath as Semi does a solo, the tinge, and riff of an electric guitar chilling him through his bones before Watanabe sings slowly and sensually. He looks back at Wakatoshi and his breath hitches when he sees him already looking back at him through hooded eyes, head leaned back a little as he waits before looking back down at his bass with a grin.

Wakatoshi looks back at him as he sings in Japanese _are you mine?_

Just as the song ends with an echoing of the drums and bass, the crowd jumps in front of him and Wakatoshi gets swallowed up by shadows and silhouettes. Kiyoomi fixes his mask on his warm face and briskly walks away from the crowd and platform, eyes wide and breathing heavy.

When he steps foot outside, he can distinctly hear Watanabe laughing and praising Wakatoshi and their drummer, Kazuya.

  
  
  


It doesn’t haunt Kiyoomi, no. It doesn’t. Really.

The thought of Wakatoshi playing bass and staring directly at him as he smirks doesn’t haunt him. Seriously.

The image of Wakatoshi’s fingers skillfully playing against the strings, thick and long, doesn’t haunt him.

Wakatoshi plays bass.

So what? It doesn’t haunt him.

Kiyoomi jumps to serve and stares blankly as it shoots past a teammate and out of bounds. His team tells him _it’s ok! let’s get the next one!_ and he wants to ask them: _but have you seen Wakatoshi-kun playing bass?_

For that one practice match, Kiyoomi’s spikes hit too hard and strong, while some jump off the receiver’s arms too harshly and then out of bounds.

  
  
  


Semi Eita is waiting for him outside, apparently.

“Dude,” Yuichi looks at him in shock, quickly putting on a clean shirt. “Why the fuck is _the_ Semi Eita looking for you? Sakusa!”

“I don’t know,” is all he mumbles yet his skin tingles at the name and memory. “Why are you so curious?”

“Sakusa,” Yuichi moves in front of his locker with a serious gaze and Kiyoomi scrunches his nose at him. “It’s _Semi Eita_! He’s so cool! And it’s apparently really hard to contact or befriend him!”

Kiyoomi looks at him weirdly. “What is this? An anime? Maybe he just doesn’t like people.”

“But people like _him_! He’s totally mysterious!”

Kiyoomi sighs and puts on his mask, adjusting it by his nose and closing off his locker. He adjusts his gym bag and shakes his head at Yuichi. “You are such a fanboy.”

“Get his number for me!”

Kiyoomi flips him off as he starts to walk away, mind racing as to why Semi Eita could be waiting for him. His neck heats up as he turns the corner and sees the other, his guitar case leaning against the wall beside him as he reads from a textbook. If Kiyoomi wasn’t so head over heels for Wakatoshi, he’d probably understand.

“Oh,” Semi spots him walking towards him and he closes his book with a snap. “It’s you.”

Kiyoomi raises a brow at him. “Weren’t you looking for me?”

Kiyoomi was taller than him but still, Semi sizes him up with a glare. “I don’t know what Ushijima-san sees in you.”

Kiyoomi freezes. “Excuse me?”

Semi scrunches up his nose. “Ushijima-san wanted me to tell you that he’ll be contacting you.”

“Excuse me?”

Semi picks up his guitar case and stuffs his textbook underneath his arm. “FYI, I don’t know you that well but Ushijima-san really likes you, so don’t mess this up.”

And then, Semi walks away without waiting for Kiyoomi’s answer. He walks away, tall and unnerved. Kiyoomi is speechless.

As Semi’s words sink into his mind, his eyes get wider and the heat from his neck rises and rises until his entire face is warm and red.

 _Ushijima-san really likes you_.

_Really likes you._

_Ushijima really likes you._

_Likes you._

_Likes?_

Wakatoshi-kun really likes me?

Kiyoomi waits for Wakatoshi to text him. He has Wakatoshi’s contact and Wakatoshi for his. What is he going to say? Will Wakatoshi say hi? Send a video of him playing bass? Send an audio message of him playing bass? Oh, dear god.

It doesn’t haunt him, really.

Kiyoomi has been waiting for Wakatoshi’s message for a week and four days.

When it almost reaches two weeks, Kiyoomi goes to the nearest mall to buy a volleyball.

(You can never really have too many volleyballs.)

In order to go to the sports store, one must walk past JB Music and really, Kiyoomi has had enough in looking at bass guitars online and imagining Wakatoshi-kun playing it, playing it _for him_ , playing it in Kiyoomi’s bed, hair all ruffled up and fingers softly strumming as he hums low and smooth before he looks up, eyes hooded and dark and saying raspily, “Kiyoomi.”

Kiyoomi blinks.

“Kiyoomi,” Wakatoshi says, walking towards him. “What are you doing here?”

 _What,_ Kiyoomi wants to say, wants to throw the guitar away altogether and touch Wakatoshi’s thighs, touch his calloused palms and fingers. _What are_ you _doing here? This is my room._

Wakatoshi places the bass down his guitar and scoots closer to him, fingers hovering between them and Kiyoomi leans forward, wants to sigh and for those fingers to wrap themselves around his—

“Sakusa-san?”

Kiyoomi jumps and turns to the left. He’s standing right in front of JB Music. Wakatoshi is inside, looking at him in surprise. He’s right in front of a bunch of keyboards.

Oh, no. Wakatoshi-kun also knows how to play the keyboard? Oh, no.

Wakatoshi nods to the workers (they, too, look a bit flustered and red, but not as much as kiyoomi) and he walks towards him, proud and tall.

“Wakatoshi-kun,” Kiyoomi says once they’re in front of each other. They’re about the same height. His voice is raspy. “Hello.”

Wakatoshi smiles, a little teasing. “I did not expect to see you here.”

“Me too,” Kiyoomi clears his throat and adjusts his mask. “Are you gonna buy a keyboard? Do you know how to play one?”

Wakatoshi blinks, slow. “No, I do not,” he answers as slow. “I was just looking.”

“Oh,” Kiyoomi says, throat scratchy. “New bass guitar then?”

And then, god forbid, Wakatoshi smiles, attractive and blooming-like-a-flower and bright. “So, it really _was_ you I saw that night.”

Wakatoshi confirms Kiyoomi’s presence. Kiyoomi confirms his wet dreams.

“I see,” Kiyoomi lets out a dry laugh. “I’m gonna buy a volleyball.”

Wakatoshi perks up, eyes bright. “May I come with?”

 _Please do not, Wakatoshi-kun, I’m far too weak._ “Of course!” _Ah, far too weak for you_.

And so, Wakatoshi accompanies him, quiet beside him as they walk the five steps to the sports store next to it. JB Sports. Amazing. The smell of rubber and plastic hits them as they come in and it’s almost funny how they make a beeline towards the volleyballs, a pathway they know in their heart.

“Sakusa-san,” Wakatoshi says as they stand in front of the array of volleyballs. “I wasn’t dreaming when I saw you that night, right?”

Kiyoomi looks at him, surprised. “Dreaming? Why would you be dreaming? And yes, I saw you that night, too, Wakatoshi-kun.” _You practically haunted me after that night._

Wakatoshi turns to him, eyes calculating and he tilts his head. “Should I not dream when I think of you?”

Kiyoomi startles. “Wakatoshi-kun?”

“I kid,” Wakatoshi smiles, acting like he hadn’t just given Kiyoomi a heart attack. “I was just unsure, you were there one moment and when I looked back at where you were, there was no one there.”

Kiyoomi hastily picks up a random volleyball. “I’m sorry, I had a deadline due.”

Wakatoshi follows him to the cashier. “Deadline? Didn’t we do a concert there to celebrate the end of a semester?”

Kiyoomi clears his throat. “You did.”

Wakatoshi stays quiet. So does Kiyoomi. The cashier, a small blonde girl, looks between them anxiously before squeaking out the price of the ball. Kiyoomi wants to ask him so badly: how long have you been playing? are you staying in that band? what other instruments can you play? do you know the chaos you’ve set inside of me? will you play again, one day? for me? in your room, in my room? hm.

As they walk out the store, Kiyoomi with his new volleyball, Wakatoshi with his looming quietness, Kiyoomi wonders if this is the last time he’ll ever spend time with him outside.

“Wakatoshi-kun —”

“Would you like to go somewhere with me?”

Kiyoomi looks at him in surprise and calms down when Wakatoshi actually looks embarrassed and shy, eyes widening as he looks away from Kiyoomi. “Of course,” Kiyoomi says quickly. “On one condition.”

“What?”

“You call me Kiyoomi.”

Wakatoshi looks at him before he lets out a gentle laugh. “Of course,” he says in such a boyish way Kiyoomi feels like he’s back in high school. “Of course, Kiyoomi.”

Wakatoshi takes him outside the mall and out the streets, towards the direction of the park in the middle of Tokyo. Kiyoomi wonders. And then wonders even more as he spares glances at Wakatoshi’s side profile. He has so many questions to ask, so many feelings to… un-feel, yet as they walk, all he wants to do is just walk, next to Wakatoshi-kun, maybe brush his hands subtly against his because that’s what Sakusa Kiyoomi has become at this point.

(it’s a curse. the need to hold wakatoshi-kun’s hand is a curse. a curse. a curse. kiyoomi really wants to know what it would feel like; to have those fingers around his wrist, hovering above his palm, maybe a thumb rubbing circles at the back of his hand, around his neck, sitting on his waist. it’s a goddamn curse to fantasize about wakatoshi-kun’s hands. fingers. whatever.)

“Wakatoshi-kun,” he says softly as soon as they enter the park. “Why are we here?”

“Nothing. I didn’t expect you to agree to be with me so this was the first place I thought of.”

Kiyoomi’s neck heats up and he looks around. “Shall we go sit then? If that’s all right with you.”

“Of course, Kiyoomi,” Wakatoshi turns to him, smiling bright and small. “Thank you for spending the day with me.”

“Of course,” Kiyoomi looks away from him, face warm. “It’s all right, Wakatoshi-kun, no need to thank me.”

Ushijima Wakatoshi has been playing the guitar since his 2nd-year high school. Guitar and bass. He got into it because he was bored one day and his setter, Semi Eita (curse and bless him) had been playing guitar since he was a kid and suggested it to Wakatoshi. They’d practice every weekend. That night was the first time Wakatoshi had performed publicly and had performed for a crowd. Would he do it again? Probably. Maybe not. But he’d want to if he wouldn’t be too busy for Adlers.

Kiyoomi blinks. And then narrows his eyes. Semi Eita had been one smart and smooth fucker.

“Did I do well?” Wakatoshi tilts his head at him before looking down at the volleyball between his hands. He’d taken it when they sat down and Kiyoomi had just let him. “I messed up a lot.”

“You did well,” Kiyoomi assures him quickly and Wakatoshi looks at him. “I don’t know how to play but you played really well, Wakatoshi-kun. I like the third song you played.” He looks at him and wonders if it’s too obvious—how he looks at him, how he feels towards him, how he wants to kiss him. His eyes drift down to his fingers holding the volleyball and he blinks rapidly.

Kiyoomi watches and then hopes to capture something forever. Wakatoshi pauses and looks at him in wonder, face slowly reddening and oh—his cheeks are a soft red and so are his ears. Kiyoomi wants to explode.

“Thank you,” Wakatoshi smiles and looks down at the volleyball, rolling it around his lap. “I forgot the name but I’ll tell you if I do.”

“Thank you, Wakatoshi-kun,” Kiyoomi smiles at him and looks out again. Maybe, if he gets brave enough, he can invite him out for dinner.

“Kiyoomi —”

“Is it all right to invite you for dinner?”

They look at each other in surprise before they both let out a laugh. “I’m sorry,” Kiyoomi lets out sheepishly. “That keeps happening, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” Wakatoshi gives him the volleyball. “And if it’s all right with you, I’d love to join you for dinner.”

“Of course, it’s all right with me,” Kiyoomi tilts his head in confusion. “I was inviting you, Wakatoshi-kun.”

Wakatoshi shrugs. “I’m just making sure with you, Kiyoomi.”

Kiyoomi smiles and looks at the volleyball between his hands, it’s warm and familiar. “Well, thank you, then, Wakatoshi-kun.”

As a comfortable silence envelops them, Kiyoomi hums a little and plays with the volleyball. He thinks of places where they could eat at and smiles at the thought of it, maybe even more dinners with Wakatoshi-kun. Or practice matches. It’d been too long since he last played against him. He sighs, moony.

“Oh, and, Kiyoomi,” Wakatoshi turns to him seriously and he looks at him with a hum. “Are you mine?”

Kiyoomi gasps, heart jumping out of his chest, “Wakatoshi-kun?” _Is this it?_

Wakatoshi raises his brows. “The title of the song? You were asking for it.”

Kiyoomi freezes and the volleyball slips off his hands and Wakatoshi is quick to catch it. “I see,” he says raspily and looks at him. “I would not mind if you were asking it seriously, Wakatoshi-kun.”

The wind howls around them. Wakatoshi’s hair flies and ruffles and they both stare at each other. Wakatoshi’s ears are bright red and he clears his throat, blinking at Kiyoomi.

“Ah,” Kiyoomi quickly says, face heating up. “Just a joke! Ah, Wakatoshi-kun, you’re so serious. Do you wanna go somewhere to eat? We can do it.”

As Kiyoomi moves to stand up, a hand wraps around his wrist and he turns to him in surprise. He would like to imagine that the glossy look in Wakatoshi’s eyes is because of him.

“May I?” Wakatoshi asks softly and then his fingers finds Kiyoomi’s palm and Kiyoomi’s breath stutters as he opens up his fingers. Wakatoshi slowly places the volleyball between their hands and Kiyoomi wants to scream. So, this is how it goes. He desperately wants to scream, _wakatoshi-kun, you’re too mean!_

Wakatoshi’s fingers pull away from his wrist, warm and gentle and he smiles gently at him. “Who’s to say I’m not asking seriously?”

“You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed,” Kiyoomi blurts out and has a moment of pride at the way Wakatoshi’s eyes widen before he hastily stands up. “Come on then, Wakatoshi-kun, the day awaits us.”

  
  


(the glossy look on wakatoshi-kun’s eyes were _definitely_ because of kiyoomi. it’s a beautiful moment of victory.

well, kinda.

kiyoomi’s moment of victory is being in wakatoshi-kun’s beautiful tokyo apartment and being inside his room, bare and clean save for a couple of volleyball posters and printed team photographs. he’s laying on his bed and staring at a beautiful wakatoshi-kun, hunched over his acoustic guitar, eyes focused. there’s even a volleyball next to him. his wakatoshi-kun, in his old shiratorizawa sweatpants and adlers hoodie. his wakatoshi-kun, playing guitar for him. kiyoomi wants to capture it forever.)

  
  


(there’s also a moment where they kiss but that’s for next time.)

**Author's Note:**

> plz pray for me im still hoping to finish a christmas fic aka omi and the nutcracker (prince sushi *giggles*) before the year ends... thatmight also explain why this is a little rushed. . that's all.. thank you *sniffles*


End file.
